


The Lucky Number Thirteen

by Cj59



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Reginald Hargreeves' A+ Parenting, Sibling Bonding, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-09-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 08:58:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18091358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cj59/pseuds/Cj59
Summary: Going back in time, to save the world from the Apocalypse, was not an easy task, but it was child's play next to having to deal with their father again. The timeline has to remain intact until Five can figure out what does and doesn't affect it - which means playing the part of thirteen-year-olds until everything is figured out. The only problem is Reginald Hargreeves, the man that - in Klaus' humble opinion - caused the Apocalypse in the first place.





	1. No Time Like The Present

Going back in time and saving the world was the easy part. The hard part would be dealing with their father as they tried to do so.

Klaus was well aware of exactly where - and when - they'd be. Back when they were thirteen, living in a house with  _ him _ . The monster that made Klaus into what he was. He dreaded the thought, his stomach sinking so deep he might throw up, but hey, there was a world to save and maybe things would be different this time around.

He didn't know who he was trying to fool, because he sure as hell wasn't fooling himself. But Ben's hand on his shoulder was warm, and his grip was tight, and he was so real that Klaus really couldn't turn back now. He took a last glance at his family before the time vortex swallowed them. They were in this together.

The blue light flashed and all of a sudden Klaus was falling, landing painfully on his ass. He groaned and turned sideways, rubbing his tailbone as he glanced around. As he thought, they were back in the Academy, the strict walls looming above his head.

“Ouch,” Ben said beside him, wincing as he sat up. Klaus looked at him and Ben looked so much more real, even though he was thirteen again, and Klaus’ heart stopped as he realized that Ben hadn't died yet. Ben was real and alive and right here in front of everyone.

“You're alive,” Klaus whispered, his voice hoarse - or maybe it was the puberty making his voice crack.

Ben shot him a grin. “Strange after so long, huh?”

Klaus pulled him into a hug, relief melting through him as Ben's body heat soaked into his clothes. The others were here too, but Klaus ignored them in favor of the brother that hadn't left his side in more than fifteen years. Ben’s hands were shaking, and Klaus could feel every breath he took as he heaved in air with large gulps, like he hadn't breathed in fifteen years. Klaus supposed he hadn't.

“Oh shit, Five,” Allison said, and Klaus and Ben pulled apart to check on him. He was unconscious and pale, his hair drenched with sweat. Luther still had Vanya in his arms, holding her gently as she lay motionless. Diego put two fingers to Five's neck, sighing in relief before nodding at the rest of them. Klaus’ shoulders slumped and he leaned against Ben.

“He's going to be okay?” Ben asked.

“Probably,” Diego answered, and Klaus felt Ben's hand squeeze his tightly. It had been a while since anyone other than Klaus had been able to see or hear him, so of course Ben was emotional about it. “He used a lot of energy getting us here. He just needs rest.”

“Vanya too,” Luther spoke up.

“And when she wakes up, it's not going to be in that cage, is it?” Klaus asked, and something like regret flashed across Luther’s face.

“No,” Luther said. “It won't.”

“Children,” a booming voice said from the top of the stairs, too familiar and one that made Klaus’ blood freeze. “What are you doing up? Curfew was an hour ago!”

Hargreeves stood imposingly on the second floor, staring down at them disapprovingly with his monocle firmly in place. That glare had been directed at Klaus so often that he had thought that it had lost its power, but being under it again after so long reminded him of just how much power Hargreeves had over him and all of them. He shrunk under the gaze and Ben shifted ever so subtly to block Klaus’ view of Hargreeves.

No one moved, Hargreeves apparently waiting for an answer and none of the “children” willing to give one. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the others sharing looks with each other, communicating in the silent speech of body language they'd learned to use after living in Hargreeves’ house their whole life. Allison turned to Klaus, giving him a warning not to speak out.  _ I'll explain later, _ she said with a look.  _ Don't say anything. _

“Everyone to bed,” Hargreeves eventually said. “We will deal with your punishments in the morning.”

“Come to bed, now,” Mom said, the bright smile on her face as always. “We have a long day tomorrow.”

“M-Mom,” Diego whispered, his voice so quiet Klaus could barely hear him. She turned to him and beckoned him over, and he instantly stood up to follow her. Allison and then Luther stood up as well, Luther carrying Vanya to her room. Ben picked up Five, giving Klaus a look as he began to climb the stairs. Hargreeves’ eyes lingered on Five, but he didn't say anything, instead just watching them head off to their rooms with the critical eye he seemed to always have. Klaus jumped up, intent on not being left behind or with Hargreeves, hot on Ben's heels as he first stopped by Five's room before heading towards his own.

As Klaus walked in stride with Ben, the usual shaking and sweating of his withdrawal didn't hit him, and he realized he felt better than he had in two days. It was strange, because even at thirteen he had been doing drugs, albeit it was mostly pot and alcohol. Klaus’ head was stuffy, and he had assumed it had been from the time travel but it wasn't until now that it became obvious that he was currently high.

“ _ Shit,”  _ Klaus hissed. Ben raised an eyebrow, and the move was so Ben that it made him grin for a second.

“I'm fucking high,” Klaus explained with a low voice. Ben glared at him.

“I thought you said you were getting sober,” he said back. “You've been sober for two days, you were sober at the theater - wait. How are you high?”

“Came with the body, I guess,” Klaus replied. “Probably just weed, um. I'll be fine.”

Ben didn't look too convinced but he let it go, and they reached his room, Ben leaning on the door frame for a moment. Diego was already curled up on his bed, his back to the rest of the room, the door left ajar and the small desk lamp on. A twinge of sympathy shot through Klaus; he did that when he was younger as well, doing his best to keep the ghosts at bay before he had turned to drugs.

“So I guess this is it, huh?” Ben said. “It's been more than fifteen years since we've been apart, you know.”

Klaus didn't answer. Uncertainty curled in his stomach as he considered how Ben was free now, free to do what he wanted rather than follow Klaus. A selfish part of him wanted Ben back to the way he was, so Klaus would be assured of his own “guardian angel” over his shoulder - but that would require Ben dying. And that, next to the Apocalypse, was the most important event to stop from happening.

“Getting sappy on me, little brother?” Klaus asked, and Ben rolled his eyes.

“ _ Good night,  _ Klaus.”

“Night, Ben.”

Klaus stepped into his room, closed the door, and then the panic set in. He'd never been good at night, the dead making themselves known even stronger once the Sun set, and even with the high flowing through his blood he couldn't help the way he trembled as he pulled the covers over him. He was so used to Ben sitting next to him as he fell asleep, ensuring that no ghost would be able to sneak up on him as he slept. Klaus hadn't realized just how dependent he was on Ben, his literal voice of reason amongst a sea of bad decisions.

And then, the high began to fade, an hour into Klaus laying on his bed staring at the ceiling. The whispers and the voices were coming back, calling his name and it was only a matter of time before they would appear as ghosts. He clicked on his desk lamp, just for the relief of knowing whether the shadows were figments of his imagination or the ghosts here to haunt him. He hadn't been sober in a long time, but during the past few days the dead had mostly been quiet, if not for his focus on the Apocalypse than because of Klaus’ sudden resolve to push through their incessant noise. But being in this room and so close to everything he had been through as a child made the memories haunt him as much as the dead, and he found his control slipping. He felt like he actually was thirteen again, as he had never truly learned to control his powers the way the others had. He hadn't had to face a ghost in years, other than Ben and that time in the hotel when he'd been tortured.

He'd been hiding under the covers, tense as a board and fighting each panicked breath when he heard a knock on his door. He quickly pushed the covers back and flinched as he saw a mangled woman in the corner, staring right at him. Klaus put on his best brave face as the door gently opened, certain it was Hargreeves there to ensure the children were all in bed.

“Klaus?” a soft voice said, and Klaus breathed a sigh of relief. Ben peeked into his room and they met eyes, Ben notably relaxing as he saw Klaus. “Sorry, um… it's just, being in this house, with  _ him _ , being alive, I don't…”

Ben flexed his hand and Klaus could see something move under his skin. “It's just a lot,” he said softly. “It's been a while, and I haven't had to deal with my powers for a long time.”

“Alright, but no tentacle stuff, I may be kinky but-”

Ben shoved a hand over Klaus’ mouth, shutting him up.

“You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that,” Ben said. “You never shut up.”

Klaus mumbled through the hand and Ben removed it, moving to sit on the bed. Klaus couldn't help but glance at the woman, but he felt bolder with Ben here, as if Ben could protect him from her. Ben looked at Klaus before looking into the corner, as if he expected to see what Klaus was seeing.

“There's someone there,” Ben said, and it wasn't a question. Klaus nodded anyway. “Can you talk to them?”

The same question Ben had asked in the hotel room, yet it felt like it carried a vastly different weight. In the hotel room, he was there as a victim, just like the ghosts. But this was his room, the one place in the entire world that belonged to him and where he could escape from his father. The ghost was here, invading his space and his boundaries, and she was a victim but Klaus felt no connection to her. Still, he had to do something about her.

“Hi,” he said. “What's your name?”

“Maria,” she said, her gaze not softening at all.

“Maria,” he repeated. “Would you mind maybe coming back later? Like, not in my room?”

She looked at him, not answering, and he figured that she'd just stay there all night. But after a moment she disappeared, leaving Ben and Klaus alone.

“Did it work?” Ben asked. Klaus grinned at him. Maybe he could do it, this time around. He could learn to control his powers, and possibly keep ghosts from appearing. His powers were different from the others’ and none of them understood that except Ben: both of them had passive powers that they had to learn to restrain rather than use. Not to mention Klaus’ power had to do with dealing with  _ people _ , who reacted randomly and unpredictably, whereas the others had powers pertaining to them personally. Even Allison, who dealt with people, made them do what  _ she _ wanted, rather than reacting to what they wanted.

“See, Klaus?” Ben said. “You can do this.”

Klaus took in a shaky breath. “Yeah.”

Ben swallowed hard and stared down at his hands. Klaus grabbed his hand, feeling it tremble in his grasp. Ben watched the creature beneath his skin crawl up his arm, wincing as it disappeared from Klaus’ sight.

“It's all too real,” Ben croaked. “I can feel my clothes, my skin, the heat of the house, and it's so small but it's too much. I'm not used to it.”

“Hey,” Klaus said. “Hey, it's going to be okay.”

Ben smiled weakly. “We can do this, then? Be alive, and be sober?”

“A lot less fun but a lot more addicting, hmm?” Klaus said. “Living with no buffer between us and the real world. I couldn't imagine a better rush.”

Ben smiled at him and then joined Klaus under the covers, a comforting presence in a cold house. Ben, his brother, had been a grounding force before he had died, and after, well… Klaus had learned to listen to him in a way he hadn't before. Ben had lost his innocence when he died, going from a naive, easily manipulated kid to a jaded and sharp man. Maybe it was the dying. Maybe it was the drugs, on Klaus’ end.

The next morning, they dumped Klaus’ stash in the toilet, watching the little pills swirl down the drain.


	2. And Then There Was Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They discuss what to do about Dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the positive feedback for this! It really motivates me to keep up the story because I know you guys are so interested in it.

Five woke up in his room, sunlight shining through the windows and the house silent, giving the illusion of a perfect day. But since Five was alive, due to what he assumed was the success of the temporal travel and since there was no such thing as a perfect day in his father's house, he knew it wouldn't last. He glanced at the alarm clock on his desk and it read  _ 5:15 a.m. _ He had fifteen minutes before his father woke up, and forty five before they were all expected down at the breakfast table, dressed impeccably and in their specific places.

He pushed his covers aside and slid out of bed, sighing heavily as he stared down at his ruined uniform. He needed a shower and to treat a gash he had on his shoulder from a bullet graze, but as per usual, he had no time. He leaned forward to try and jump but he came up against a wall, just like he did when he had jumped too many times and couldn't find the energy to jump again. He grit his teeth in frustration. Apparently pulling six people through time with him drained him and he hadn't fully recovered yet, but there wasn’t enough  _ time  _ for him to be tired; he had to get to the others to keep them from making a mistake and changing the timeline, to explain to them exactly how delicate their situation was, to create a plan of how to help Vanya.

They had seventeen years, but would it be enough?

So instead he stepped into the hall, wincing at every footstep he made as he moved five steps to the other side of the hall. He opened Klaus’ door and honestly wasn't surprised to see Ben there as well, Klaus hogging most of the bed with his hand in Ben's face as they slept, looking almost peaceful despite Klaus’ years of torment and Ben's years of being dead.

“Hey,” Five hissed, neither of them moving and Five rolled his eyes. He stepped up to Klaus and put his hand over his mouth, hiding a potential shout of alarm that would wake their father, and slapped him gently.

Klaus’ eyes shot open and he flailed against Five, his panicked movements shoving Ben off the bed and onto the floor. Klaus grabbed Five's hand in a death grip, his eyes wild and Five pulled away instinctively at the desperation on Klaus’ face. Klaus blinked as he looked up at Five, the fear fading as quickly as it had appeared and he released Five's arm, sitting up wearily.

“Jesus, Five,” Ben grumbled as he popped up off of the floor.

“You could have woken me up like a normal person,” Klaus griped. “And I thought I was the drama queen.”

“We need to talk,” Five said. “Meet me in Allison's room.”

Klaus waved him off and Five stepped out into the hall again, moving to Diego's room where he stopped at the closed door. Knocking gently, he opened the door to find Diego already awake, sitting up in his bed and staring at the wall, idly flipping a knife. He turned to Five, a blank look on his face as he threw the knife into the wall, making another mark among a few already there.

“We're back to being thirteen, our father is alive and kicking,” Diego stood up to pull the knife out of the wall. “We know what will happen. We've faced his torments before.”

“Where are you going with this?” Five asked, although he already knew.

“Would it be so bad if he wasn't around?” Diego asked softly. “He never did anything but ruin us. He got Ben killed. Without him…”

The thought had crossed Five's mind. Despite forty-five years away from his father's influence, he still felt the effects of his particular method of child-rearing. And he had seen what had happened to his family who had been around their father longer than Five had - including Ben. Five wondered, if they brought this idea to the rest, if any of them would object. Even Luther had become disillusioned with their father and his faith in him.

“Unfortunately, we can't,” Five said. “We don't know if Father’s death might accelerate or change the Apocalypse in a way I haven't accounted for. Father is a cruel, evil man, but he did teach us to control our abilities. If we eliminated him, would anyone be able to help Vanya control her powers?”

“But she wouldn't be under his thumb,” Diego snapped, moving to stand over Five. “She wouldn't have all this anger and hate even more exacerbated by yet another five years around him. Klaus’ drug use wasn't just the dead, you know, and Ben-”

He cut himself off and Five met his eye calmly.

“I don't doubt that eliminating Dad would benefit our family,” Five said slowly, feeling like he was explaining something to a child. “But  _ like I said, _ we don't know how his death would affect the timestream. This is about more than us, Diego, this is about the world.”

Diego stepped back, deflating a bit as he glared past Five at the hallway. “You're right,” he said eventually, because of course Five was.

“Look, I'll explain it more in Allison's room, alright? Meet me there.”

Diego hesitated before nodding shortly, pushing past Five to stomp down the hall. Five sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. He wished it was as easy as killing one person, but if his time at the Commission had taught him anything, it was that killing someone rarely kept the timeline intact. The Commission ended one person's life to fix one event but that death caused the timestream to alter, causing a different event to become unstable. There was no easy answer when it came to time. Of which Five couldn't help but feel like he didn't have enough.

Heading back down to the end of the hall, he found that Luther and Allison were already up, presumably woken by one of the others. Five glanced over his shoulder to check and make sure that there was no father or Mom or even Pogo about to interrupt their meeting. Satisfied that no one was there, he stepped into Allison’s room, the others waiting for him in silence and eyeing Vanya, who was laying on the bed still asleep. Apparently she hadn’t slept in her own room, but in Allison’s, which was probably better anyway. Waking up alone after discovering the full extent of her powers would be traumatizing for anyone, and Five knew that personally.

“So are we going to fix this?” Allison asked as Five pulled out the copy of Vanya’s book that held the equations he had scribbled down. “And how?”

“Did any of you say anything to Dad?” Five asked, skimming through the book. “Anything at all? What happened while I was out?”

“Oh, we appeared out of thin air in our  _ adorable  _ little bodies,” Klaus started. “Dear old Dad told us to go to bed or he'd do his fatherly whipping act, and so like the good little tykes we are, we did.”

“How are we here like this anyway?” Ben asked. “Shouldn't there be the actual young versions of us running around?”

“Yeah, how are we here like this anyway?” Klaus parroted. “Shouldn't there - oh wait.”

Klaus fell silent as he remembered that they could all hear (and see) Ben and he didn't have to interpret his questions any longer. Allison and Luther exchanged a glance, and Ben shifted where he was leaning against the wall.

“The reason there isn't a mini Number Six running around is because all of our consciousness were transferred to their bodies,” Five said. “Same mental capability, different body. Well, younger body.”

“So did we just kill our younger selves?” Luther asked.

“No, they're basically in hibernation. If our consciousness leaves, they'll return.”

“And what about Vanya?” Allison asked, touching her throat lightly as she spoke. “What about Dad?”

The charged question sat in the air for a moment, no one willing to answer. Diego shot a look at Five before glaring at the wall, and Allison ran a hand over Vanya’s cheek, brushing her hair out of her face. Klaus looked concerned at the mention of their father, and so did Luther, unsurprisingly enough considering the recent revelations that had unfolded.

“Well,” Luther began slowly. “She's got her medicine here-”

Klaus just laughed scornfully, shaking his head as he turned away from Luther, and Ben pursed his lips as his eyes flicked between Luther and Klaus. Allison glared at Luther, her hand on Vanya’s shoulder protectively.

“No,” Allison said forcefully.

“Allison, come on,” Luther said.

“ _ No.” _

“Don't you get it, man?” Diego shook his head. “We can't be the same assholes who ruined her life, because we’re the ones who turned her into that monster. We need to be here for her this time, and that means she won't be taking those pills.”

“Just until we figure out what's going on,” Luther said desperately. “We can't afford her slipping up or getting angry.”

“I have an idea,” Klaus said casually. “How about we don't force drugs onto an unwilling person?”

“Klaus has a point there,” Five conceded, and Klaus threw up his hands in a  _ thank you  _ motion. “Vanya needs help, not to be treated like a ticking time bomb and put back into the exact same situation that made her blow up the world.”

Luther was obviously outnumbered, but he turned to Ben all the same. He was the only one who hadn't said anything yet, most likely because he wasn't used to chipping into the family conversations. He started a little as he realized everyone was waiting for his opinion.

“I agree with Diego,” he said, and Luther sighed. “No one will be hurting her anymore.”

“Now that we have that settled,” Allison said, a sharpness to her voice that was obviously meant for Luther. “How do we help her? And keep Dad from giving her the pills?”

“We can switch the pills out, easy enough,” Five muttered. “But Dad, that's a different problem. I suppose you couldn't just Rumor him, could you?”

Allison looked disturbed at the idea. “I guess, but… I'm kind of done with the whole Rumor thing.”

“We'll think of something else, then,” Five said. “Just give me some time and I'll come up with it. Until then, I guess Vanya will have to play the part of perfectly ordinary.”

“What if we discovered Dad's notes?” Klaus suggested. “The whole ‘oh my God the secrets’ thing might work and he might be forced into training Vanya again.”

“Dad's notes?” Diego asked, his brow furrowing.

“You didn't tell them?” Ben said, giving Klaus a look.

“What? They didn't seem important at the time, we had the whole Apocalypse thing to deal with.” Klaus waved his hand dismissively at Ben.

“Klaus,” Five snapped. “What notes?”

“Oh, you know, the ones where Dad talked about Vanya’s powers and also how each of us was a complete and total fuck up, never to reach his standards of existence.”

“All of us?” Luther asked, his voice small.

“Sorry, Spaceboy,” Ben cut in. “But Dad's bar was just too impossibly high for anyone.”

“Even perfect Number One,” Klaus said under his breath.

“And you didn't think to mention this before?” Five hissed. Klaus just shrugged, and Five rolled his eyes. “But yes, that could very well work. We'd have to get it out of his office without him noticing, but that shouldn't be a problem.”

“So we've figured out a way to help Vanya, mostly,” Allison said. “But there's still something that's a major cause for the Apocalypse that we haven't dealt with.”

Diego stood up straight. “Dad,” he said with a finality no one dared argue with. “He needs to be dealt with. In whatever way that takes form.”

“Well, we can't kill him,” Five said. “We need to keep the timeline intact, at least until I can calculate what changes will least or most affect it. Obviously, some changes are necessary, such as me not time traveling to the Apocalypse, Vanya learning to control her powers, and Ben not dying; however we can't allow any other changes to happen. Meaning we have to live the way our thirteen-year-old selves did, without letting Dad know we aren't in fact them.”

“Counter point,” Klaus said. “ _ Fuck that. _ ”

“We can't make any changes,” Five argued. “Not when it could jeopardize the Apocalypse, making it happen sooner rather than later. Just let me work out the equations. This is about more than us, it's about the world.”

Diego raised an eyebrow at Five's use of the same line he had used on him earlier, but Five ignored him. Klaus huffed angrily and looked down at the floor, playing with the hem of his uniform instead of acknowledging what Five had said. Luther was silent, the thought of playing pretend with their father giving even him second thoughts. Ben didn't say anything, just watching Five carefully with the unashamed look of someone who didn't realize they weren't dead and Five could see him staring.

“What about Vanya?” Allison spoke up, turning her steel gaze to Five. “We can't let Dad terrorize her the way he did before.”

“Easy,” Diego said before Five could speak. “We stand up for her. For each other.”

“No more judgement, no more fighting, no more throwing each other a disadvantage,” Five agreed.  “We work as a team. As a family.”

Allison suddenly turned to Vanya, concern creasing her face. They all stood up, crowding around the bed as Vanya blinked slowly awake. She took in each of their faces one by one, lingering longer on Five and Ben before she spoke, her voice quiet and far away.

“What's going on?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is probably what the average chapter length is going to be, but the later chapters might start getting a little longer as the plot becomes more involved. Also, I'm mostly writing this on my phone so if you see an error or something that really bothers you let me know so I can fix it. Damn autocorrect.


	3. No Right Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya's awake, and Luther just can't seem to understand that she's their sister, not a bomb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I told myself I'd post a new chapter when I finished the current one I was working on, which happened to be... now... so here it is!

Allison clutched her sister's hand tightly, and while she didn't pull away, she didn't respond either. She was looking at each of their faces, studying them as they all stared down at her. Allison hoped she'd be okay, that Five's plan would work and they'd stop the Apocalypse and more importantly, heal the wounds they'd caused in Vanya.

“V,” Five spoke, his voice softer than Allison thought was possible. “Do you remember what happened?”

Vanya frowned, staring down at her hands in silence for a moment. No one moved, like they were afraid if they breathed too loud they'd break the tranquility that had settled over Vanya like a blanket. She glanced up at Allison, touching her own throat in a mirror to the way Allison did every time she spoke.

“I caused the Apocalypse,” Vanya said calmly. “I nearly killed Allison. I did kill Pogo and Mom.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Luther snarled. “You destroyed the fucking world!”

Luther stepped towards Vanya and Allison reached out to stop him, but in a flash Diego was standing between Luther and the bed. Because she was behind him, she could see one of his knives clutched behind his back as he put one hand on Luther's chest.

“You need to back off,” Diego said, his voice dangerously even. “She just woke up, she's in shock.”

“Pretty sure she's on those pills, too,” Klaus spoke up, and Allison turned to look at him. “When I woke up in this body, I was high. Came with the body, and I assume little Vanya took her pills like she normally did.”

“So we still have until tomorrow before her powers actually come into play,” Five said. “That'll be enough time to get Dad to train her rather than sedate her.”

“How are you feeling?” Allison asked Vanya.

“I'm alright,” Vanya said. “I don't know. I feel…”

“Numb,” Klaus murmured, his eyes holding a sadness Allison remembered seeing in him when he was young, before he started doing drugs. He met Allison's eyes briefly before looking at the ground, Ben squeezing his shoulder gently.

“Yeah,” Vanya agreed.

“And you can't use your powers when you're numb,” Luther said, and Allison shot him a warning look. “What if one day isn't enough time? What if Dad refuses to agree to help Vanya?”

Allison had to admit it was a legitimate concern. Dad never had been anything but set in his ways, and if he had decided Vanya was a lost cause, it would be hard to change his mind. But Allison would change his mind, because as stubborn as Dad was, she was determined to be more so.

“Then we'll work that out if it comes to it,” Diego said.

“All I'm saying is we have another option and we should at least consider it,” Luther said.

“Considered,” Ben said. “Thrown out. Smashed into a pulp.”

“What other option?” Vanya asked softly.

“Your pills,” Luther said, and Vanya shook her head.

“No. No, I don't want to take them,” she grasped Allison's arm. “Please don't make me take them, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-.”

“I know, Vanya,” Allison assured her. “You won't ever take them again, okay?”

Now that Allison had seen Vanya without her pills, she could see a stark difference. Vanya's quiet acceptance of everything they had done to her, the way she blindly continued on with her life, content to be ordinary, spoke volumes of the power of her “medicine.” Her eyes were slightly glazed, and how had Allison never noticed? Why had none of them thought to question Dad's treatment of her, or their own treatment of her as well?

“And when her powers get out of control and she destroys the Academy?” Luther’s voice rose, snapping Allison back to the present, and Klaus shushed him. “She didn't mean to, but that didn't stop her from killing Pogo, or Mom!”

“Enough!” Diego roared, and now Klaus shushed him. “You don't get to talk about her like that. You're the one who refused to listen or help her, you're the one who put her in that damn cell!”

Luther growled and his hands clenched into fists, Diego's grip on his knives getting tighter. Allison had seen this so many times before that she knew exactly where this was headed; she gave a warning look to Klaus and Ben to get out of the way. Diego and Luther squared up, looking over each other as they tried to find a good place to hit.

“So much for ‘no fighting,’” Five muttered. Surprisingly, it worked, and both Diego and Luther glanced at Five guiltily and stepped back.

“Ah, I love the smell of testosterone in the morning,” Klaus said fondly.

“Maybe it's best if you wait out in the hall,” Diego said. “Be a lookout, in case Mom or Pogo come by.”

“I don't follow your orders,” Luther narrowed his eyes.

“Think of it as a suggestion, then,” Ben said, and Allison couldn't help but smile. Ben had always been a sweet kid, and apparently his death and years of following Klaus around hadn't taken all of it away from him. There was a reason he was one of the favorite siblings of everyone, because he was sweet, caring, and rarely antagonized anyone.

Luther shot Ben a look before leveling Diego with one as well. He glanced at Allison, who nodded slightly, before acquiescing with an angry sigh and stomping outside the room, shutting the door with a resounding click.

“Now that the elephant’s out of the room,” Diego said.

“Don't be rude, Diego,” Klaus adjusted the tie around his neck. “He's an ape.”

“Klaus!” Ben said sharply, even as Five snickered.

“What?” Klaus said, an easy smile on his face despite a burning look in his eyes. “That's what he gets for trying to choke me. We're even now!”

“He did  _ what?” _ Diego was fuming now.

“He was drunk,” Klaus said, a lame excuse that even Klaus didn't seem to think much of as he said it. Diego looked from Klaus to the door, and Allison could sense that he very much wanted to open the door and beat some sense into Luther. But he stood his ground, and Allison turned her attention back to Vanya.

“Are you going to be alright for today?” Allison asked, and Vanya nodded.

Allison helped her off of the bed, smoothing down her skirt as she blinked exhaustion out of her eyes. Allison glanced around the room. Five was scribbling into his book again, and Diego was standing tense nearest to the door, watching Vanya comb her fingers through her hair. Klaus was picking at his fingernails, pretending to be completely casual despite the way his shoulders were tight. Ben was staring at Five, looking like he was considering saying something but wasn't sure if he should.

“Is something wrong, Ben?” Allison asked.

“No, it's just…” he trailed off as everyone looked at him. “If we're all in our past bodies rather than our current ones de-aged, then why is Five injured, and his uniform destroyed?”

Their eyes all settled on Five, who seemed somewhat uncomfortable with the attention. Ben was right, though, because Five's uniform was torn and ripped and he had a few cuts on his face from being thrown across the theater. Blood was soaking through his jacket on his shoulder, which made it obvious that Five was (once again) injured and hadn't brought it to anyone's attention.

“So you're in your current body,” Diego said. “Which is obviously still thirteen. Does that mean there's a little you running around?”

It dawned on her. “Sure,” Allison said. “In the Apocalypse.”

“We must've come back after Five went to the future,” Klaus agreed. “That's why Dad was acting so strange when he saw Five.”

“So we'll have to explain that to Dad too,” Diego said, crossing his arms.

The door opened and Luther poked his head in, glancing at them. “Hey,” he said. “Mom's coming.”

“Well,” Five sighed. “This is good enough time to disperse. I'll go get changed as to draw less attention to myself, and remember what I said - don't change the timeline. Don't do anything to let Dad know.”

With that, he pushed past Luther and out of the room, causing Allison to exchange a glance with Vanya. Allison knew Five had limits, and apparently the time jump had meant he was out of juice even after sleeping most of the night. Diego went next as Luther stepped into the room, leaving without a word. Luther looked at Allison and then Ben and Klaus, before his gaze rested on Vanya. He opened his mouth to say something and then closed it, pursing his lips instead.

“How about you go get ready, Vanya?” Allison suggested. Vanya glanced between her and Luther, her forehead creasing.

“I-” She said before stopping herself. “Okay.”

“We'll come with you!” Klaus said, bouncing to Vanya and pulling her out of the room, Ben trailing behind them. Vanya smiled in relief right before she left the room, Klaus having read her mind about not wanting to be alone.

“How can you forgive her so easily?” Luther said once Vanya was out of the room, but Allison doubted she had gotten far enough to be out of earshot. “She tried to kill you, Allison.”

“She's my sister,” Allison defended. “She was lost in a sea of powers she couldn't control, and I tried to do something I shouldn't have. It was my fault, not hers, because she needed help and I didn't give it to her.”

“But…” Luther trailed off.

“We all caused the Apocalypse, Luther.” Allison shook her head. “Dad treated her like shit and we didn't say anything, we all treated her like shit and no one stood up for her. The Apocalypse is least of all her fault.”

“She killed Pogo and Mom,” Luther seethed.

“I know you think you're justified in trying to contain her, but you're just making it worse,” Allison snapped, anger rising in her chest. “You betrayed her, put her in a cage, and left her there. You treated her like she was a bomb and not your sister.”

“Allison, please, you have to understand-”

“Understand?” Allison stepped back. “You won't listen to me or any of the others. You’ve hurt Vanya, and Klaus, and you justify it all even though it’s exactly what Dad would do. You’ve been acting like Dad to Vanya when all she needed was her big brother.”

Luther didn’t say anything, and Allison scoffed sadly. She could hear Mom’s soft humming in the hallway and it faded away, leaving them in total silence. Allison shouldn’t have expected an answer from Luther. Even now, after everything he’d learned about Dad, he was still determined to live up to his standards, even if he didn’t realize it himself.

Allison walked towards the door of her room but stopped, half turning to Luther. She didn’t know why her big brother insisted on making such an ass of himself, but he wasn’t winning any favors that way. Even with Dad back, he had the full force of the Academy against him.

“You know,” she said softly. “Dad would be proud of you.”

Saying that used to fill Luther with glowing pride, but now it had the desired effect: Luther’s shoulders slumped as if a weight had been put on them, and he couldn’t meet Allison’s eye. She left the room, noticing Mom hovering outside Diego’s room and a twinge of pain filled her heart. She hadn’t been as close to Mom as Diego, but it didn’t matter. She was the closest thing they had had to a parent, so thinking of how she had died at the mansion made Allison’s heart heavy. She was here now, though, and Allison was grateful for it.

She stopped outside Vanya’s room, peeking in. Klaus was rambling on about some war story, one he must have heard in a bar somewhere, but he told it with such enthusiasm Allison could almost picture that Klaus had witnessed it personally. Ben was sitting next to Klaus on the bed, listening intently with a small smile, while Vanya finished brushing her hair.

“Hey,” Allison said, and all three of them turned to her. “You ready?”

Vanya took a deep breath, looking at herself in the mirror. “Yeah,” she said. None of them believed her, but none of them had much choice but to be ready for what was about to happen.

It was time for breakfast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No incest in my fic, thank you very much!
> 
> Anyway, as you can tell my posting schedule is less than consistent. Two chapters in two days isn't what I plan to keep up to, but I'll try and establish a more consistent schedule. Hopefully I'll be able to post every few days, but school's gotten very crazy recently so I don't know how much time I'll have.


	4. Words Cut Like Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diego and Five talk, and then it's breakfast time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would be lying if I said I haven't been super excited to post this chapter. This is where things start to really pick up.

Diego stormed out of Allison’s room, passing by Luther without giving him a glance. Hadn’t he done enough? Didn’t he realize he no longer had any authority over any of them? And yet he still lorded his position as team leader over all of them, trying to get them to hurt Vanya again. That was what had gotten them into this mess into the first place.

Diego went to his room, intent on taking his frustrations out on the wall or tidying up his room or doing something to get his mind off things, but he stopped at the threshold. He had followed Five out into the hall, and while Five was securely in his room by now, Diego had seen the way his wound was bleeding through the shoulder of his jacket. He groaned and turned on his heel, moving to the closed door of Five's room. Klaus, Ben, and Vanya disappeared into Vanya's room, Klaus already chattering all the way there, and Diego hesitated a moment in front of the closed door.

They were supposed to be here for each other, this time around. But Diego wasn't good with the whole ‘opening up to each other’ thing and neither was Five. Sure, Five could talk about the Apocalypse, but that was almost out of necessity and it was easier to talk about something no one could relate to, because then it was your experience alone. But something shared between them was ultimately harder, because then it somehow became more personal and the risk of them judging you for something you couldn't deal with properly was so much more real. Diego understood that. But they were supposed to be here for each other, and leaders led by example.

So he knocked on the door, and when there was no answer, he opened it and walked inside.

“What the fuck?” Five glared at him, sitting on his bed shirtless and attempting to sew up a gash on his shoulder. Without anaesthetic or anything. Diego instinctively moved towards him and grabbed the sewing needle before it could pierce skin. Swallowing down his nausea at seeing the needle and its intended purpose, he held onto it, even as Five attempted to jerk it away.

“Do you mind?” Five snapped. “I'm trying to stop myself from bleeding.”

“You're likely to infect it if you go around stabbing yourself with random needles,” Diego replied, shaking his head to try to clear the tingling cold that was spreading up his body, threatening to knock him out. “Plus, that's a hard angle to reach. Let me help.”

Five gave him a look. “I've been stitching myself up for forty five years. I know what I'm doing. And I don't need you passing out in my room, so get out.”

Diego didn't let go. “You don't need to do it yourself anymore, Five.”

“Yeah, well, I don't need your help.” Five attempted again to wrest the needle from Diego's grasp, but Diego held on tight.

“Just because you don't need help doesn't mean you shouldn't accept it,” Diego said. “At least let Mom have a look at it.”

Five glared at Diego, looking like he was about to start stabbing him in the eye repeatedly with the needle in question if Diego let go, but he rolled his eyes and nodded once. Diego released the needle and Five did not in fact stab him, so he walked to the door and looked around the corner. Mom was in the hallway, humming to herself as she folded uniforms ready to be put away, and Diego felt pain shoot through his heart.

“M-Mom?” he said, his voice stuttering a bit, and he couldn't help the frustration that shot through his stomach. He needed to get it together.

“Ah, Diego,” Mom said, facing him with that picture perfect smile she always wore. “How are you? Did you sleep well?”

“I'm fine, Mom,” Diego said, unable to keep the reverence out of his voice. He stepped forward, giving her a tight hug. She chuckled and returned it, Diego melting into her arms as he remembered the building collapsing around her while she waved like she didn't understand what was happening. It wouldn't happen this time. He and the others would make sure of it.

“I need your help,” he said, and she tilted her head.

“Okay,” she smiled. “With what?”

“It's Five,” Diego led Mom into Five's room, where Five was waiting impatiently. “He's injured.”

“Oh, dear,” Mom said. She fished a first aid pack out of her skirts and opened it, pulling out a sterile needle, some antibiotics, and a happy face Band-Aid. “It’s alright, honey,” she assured Five, who gave Diego the side-eye. “You’ll be okay.”

“Best look away, Diego,” Five murmured. “ Don’t want you passing out.”

Diego sneered back at Five, whose self-satisfied smirk made Diego want to punch him right in the teeth, just to see how well he’d smile when he was missing a few teeth. But instead he reluctantly turned his back to Five, studying the walls of his room instead.

“I’m glad you’re back, dear,” Mom said. “In celebration, I made your favorite breakfast. A peanut butter and marshmallow sandwich, just for you. You'll have to eat it in your room later, but I'll bring it down for you, don't worry.”

“How long was I gone?” Five asked.

“Three days,” Mom said, and Diego could hear the waver in her voice. “But you’re back now, and that’s all that matters.”

“So Dad knows,” Five said, and Diego got the feeling that he was talking to him rather than Mom. “He knows I've been gone. He's going to want answers.”

“And what do you plan to do about that?” Diego asked, touching a small stick figure drawn on the wall.

“I'm going to tell him everything about what I found in the future,” Five said. “His book might help, but knowing what actually happens because of Vanya will help more.”

Diego looked at his feet. “I hope you know what you're doing.”

“More so than any of you,” Five replied, a defensive tone in his voice.

“I wasn't attacking you,” Diego put his hands up. “We just have to be careful. I don't know if we can afford to mess this one up.”

“Alright,” Mom said cheerily. “You're all set. Don't pull your stitches playing too rough with your siblings, alright?”

Diego turned around to see Five slipping a new shirt on over the smiley-face Band-Aid and buttoning it up. That was Diego's cue and he stepped out of the room, stopping by his own to check the places he had hidden his knives. He chuckled as he found his knives where they were supposed to be; even as a kid, he had cherished them deeply.

“Now, Diego,” Mom said from the doorway, looking vaguely disappointed. “You know you aren't supposed to throw your knives at the wall.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Diego answered. She was examining the wall, and Diego smiled sadly.

“Well, I suppose I better make sure everything's ready for breakfast,” Mom finally said. “You and your siblings are ready?”

“As we'll ever be,” Diego muttered. There was no amount of preparing that would make going to breakfast with the old man any easier. Mom nodded and stepped out of the room, her heels clicking as she moved to the kitchen.

Diego stopped in the hall, his siblings joining him, none of them looking eager to go to breakfast. Today was a day that they'd be eating with their father. Klaus was fiddling with his jacket hem and Diego squeezed his shoulder, Klaus nodding stiffly and not meeting Diego's eyes. They all looked like they were going to a funeral, rather than a meal, and Five shoved Vanya's book between his waistband and his hip, crossing his arms as they waited.

The familiar bell rang through the air, and they all raced down the stairs single file to stand in front of their chairs, settling into the routine like they had done it yesterday. Which their bodies had, but their minds hadn't in years, and it was almost scary for Diego to find himself slipping so easily back into routine. Hargreeves’ shoes clacked against the floor as he moved to the head of the table, surveying each of them and sending a shiver down Diego's spine before ordering them to sit.

They all complied except Five, pulling out their chairs and sitting down to the bowls of oatmeal in front of them. Diego glanced down at the bowl of oatmeal, meeting Klaus’ eye as Klaus made a face. Oatmeal for breakfast was definitely something he hadn't missed, despite how Mom tried to flavor it with cinnamon or sometimes even fruit.

“Sit, Number Five,” Hargreeves commanded, and Five still stood there, his most contemptuous look on his face as he did so. “Unless the past three days have caused you to forget the rules of this house, you will sit.”

“Three days,” Five scoffed. “It's been a lot longer than  _ three days _ .”

The others were exchanging glances, trying to figure out what Five was doing. He was going off the plan, the one he had made himself, and it took one glance for Diego to see the way Luther’s face practically screamed panic because he didn't know what was going on. Luckily, Diego was pretty sure it could be translated as Luther panicking because Five was breaking the rules, so he didn't say anything. Allison caught Diego’s gaze and he gave an imperceptible shrug before spooning oatmeal into his mouth, feeling it stick to the roof as he tried to swallow it. Yeah, he hated the stuff.

Diego blinked as all of a sudden the rest of the Academy went back to eating - except Five and Luther, of course - as if they hadn't just been freaking out about Five going off script. It took him a moment to realize it had been because of him. Diego had sent the message that Five knew what he was doing and Diego wasn't worried about it, and they had taken his lead, going back to acting like they were thirteen-year-olds just trying to eat oatmeal. Hargreeves had set his fork down on his plate and was watching Five curiously, like a specimen he had yet to dissect.

“What do you mean, Number Five?” Hargreeves prompted. “Speak!”

“I mean,” Five started. “That I should've listened to you, old man. You were right about time travel, it's a crap shoot,” he scoffed. “But then again, maybe I shouldn't listen to you, because you're the one who started the Apocalypse.”

The table went silent, everyone freezing at once. Attention had been fully turned to Five, and deja vu hit Diego all at once: it reminded him of the day Five had left.

“Preposterous,” Hargreeves said. “If you had time traveled, it would be impossible for you to get back. I thought the stories were just what Number Four did. I'm disappointed in you, Number Five.”

Klaus flinched like he had just been hit, and Ben put a hand on his back to comfort him. Five's smile faded and he glared at Hargreeves, his hands curling into fists. The remark about disappointment would have been disheartening in any other household, but here, it promised punishment.

“Don't talk about Klaus like that,” Five growled. He slammed Vanya's book onto the table, the back cover up and showing grown Vanya staring blankly out at them. Five bared his teeth, latching onto Diego’s chair tight enough that his knuckles turned white, and Diego suddenly wondered if Five was scared. “And you're wrong, old man, the only  _ preposterous  _ thing in this house is what you have done to Vanya. You never saved the world, you just created a ticking time bomb built out of your own neglect and abuse. Did you ever think, maybe, all she needed was a little love?”

“That is enough, Number Five!” Hargreeves stood up, and fear raced down Diego's spine. Even after all these years, facing down his father was terrifying, and he wasn't even the center of attention. Diego tapped Five's knee, giving him silent support. “You do not know of what you speak. You,” he said, addressing Vanya directly. “Are nothing but ordinary.”

Vanya’s face fell, but Five grinned, sharp and all teeth, like a shark that had just found its prey.

“Careful, now, Dad,” Five said in a low voice. “Wouldn't want to make Vanya angry. Because we know what happens when she loses it.”

“She turns into the Hulk,” Klaus muttered, and Diego kicked him under the table. “Ow!”

“Silence!” Hargreeves marched over to Five, looming over him. “Time travel has deluded your mind. You speak nonsense.”

“I'm not crazy,” Five said. “The Academy, they believe me, because it's true.”

Hargreeves’ eyes narrowed and his gaze swept across the rest of them. None of them spoke for a moment, and Diego glanced over to see Klaus very much enjoying the showdown between Five and Hargreeves. Allison and Luther were looking at their plates, while Vanya and Ben had a shine in their eyes as Five stood up to the old man.

“We believe Five,” Diego broke the silence, Hargreeves turning his burning gaze to him. “I don't care what you say, you can't hide this anymore.”

The others nodded, even Luther, and Hargreeves looked surprised. He was outnumbered, the Academy standing together in solidarity against him. There was power in them standing together. Diego wondered why they hadn't done this before, working together to stop Hargreeves’ wrath.

“I've seen the other side,” Five continued. “I know that she has powers, and she's more powerful than any of us combined. She destroys the world, and all because you didn't train her to control her powers. You created the Apocalypse because you're  _ afraid  _ of her.”

Diego didn't see the slap coming, but he heard it, echoing across the silent room like the final verdict on a death row prisoner. Five’s face whipped to the side and his grip tightened on Diego's chair, breathing hard as he turned his head back to glare at the wall behind Hargreeves, the red mark bright against his pale skin. Diego stood up, and as Hargreeves raised his hand again, Diego stepped in between them.

“Number Two,” Hargreeves said with a deadly calm. “Get out of the way.”

“No,” Diego said. Hargreeves looked from Diego to Five, and Diego braced himself, but the slap never came. Instead, Hargreeves had lowered his hand, and at first Diego thought that they had beaten Hargreeves for once, but the gleam in the old man's eye promised retribution.

“You are all dismissed,” Hargreeves said, his aura still imposing as Diego stood unmoving in front of Five, and Diego had to force himself not to shrink away. “But you will be here for morning training in an hour.”

The rest of the Academy shifted gazes between each other, and Klaus was the first to stand up and start moving away from the table. The others followed suit. Diego grabbed Five's shoulder, turning him around and walking with him out of the room. Hargreeves had told them there would be a punishment for breaking curfew, and no doubt there would be hell to pay for their little act just now. But as they climbed the stairs, out of Hargreeves’ sight, Vanya rushed up to Five and gave him a hug, half apologetic for getting Five into that situation and half excited that he had stood up for her. Five grumbled goodnaturedly, and Diego knew it was worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Allison: I yelled at Luther
> 
> Five: You are like little baby. Watch this.


	5. A Timely Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Commission just can't seem to let Five live his life.

Time, and the travel through it, is a complicated factor in the grand scheme of the timeline.

Every hypothetical jump through time that a hypothetical person might make alters the timeline, creating an alternate universe that diverges from that action. But even normal people create alternate universes through their decisions - every decision creates an alternate universe, and infinite decisions by a potentially infinite amount of organisms leads to a very complicated multiverse. So who decides what timeline is considered “correct?” Who makes the choice of which timeline must be followed?

The Commission may keep order over the timeline, and the Handler may be one of the highest ranked personnel in the Commission - in the department of temporal constancy - but she wasn't exaggerating when she said there were higher ups.

Higher ups that saw what the Umbrella Academy had done in their own timeline, how close they had gotten to stopping the Apocalypse in only eight days, and how they had jumped back in time - into an alternate universe, of course - to give themselves seventeen years. The Higher Ups evaluated the Umbrella Academy, declared them a threat to not only the timeline but to every instance of Earth, and ordered their deaths.

The fifth member of the Umbrella Academy was the biggest target, as he was the one with the ability to evade them the most - and jump back and forth in time without a briefcase. The damage he could do, if left alive, was astronomical. And so, as the Handler got the order to eliminate the foreign Umbrella Academy from her timeline, it was no surprise that Five's name was on the top of the list. Killing the Umbrella Academy outright couldn't be done. After all, one of the seven was the cause of the Apocalypse, so they would need to be alive, but the consciousnesses of the seven foreign ones would need to be destroyed.

The Handler smiled as she got the order. In this universe, there was no Five traveling back in time to try and stop the Apocalypse, no partial destruction of the Commission, no death of the Handler at the hands of a rogue agent - at least, not yet. They hadn't gotten to that point yet, and so the Handler had no clue to the full potential of the Umbrella Academy.

Her heels clicked on the tile as she walked briskly down the Commission’s halls, the pristine white slip of paper loosely in her grasp. She turned the corner and nodded at the two agents waiting in front of the briefcase storage, looking impatient. They glanced up as she approached.

“So we get told that we've got a day of vacation but we're pulled before we can even finish our assignment,” the first one spoke, his partner giving him an exasperated look. “What the Hell’s with that?”

“Hazel,” the Handler said in greeting, before turning to his partner. “Cha Cha. Glad you could join us, we have a special assignment for you.” She leaned in close. “Straight from the Higher Ups.”

This caught their attention, and they exchanged a curious glance before turning back to the Handler. She held the paper out to them between two fingers, and they both reached for it but Cha Cha grabbed it first. Hazel looked over Cha Cha’s shoulder, both of them reading the list of names.

“This is a family?” Hazel asked. “Which ones are the kids?”

“All of them,” the Handler said. “Well, technically none, as they're mentally thirty but physically thirteen. Time travel gone wrong can do that you.”

“So they're siblings?” Cha Cha asked.

“Indeed.” the Handler walked a bit away from the two, gazing into the briefcase room. “But this assignment requires a bit of… delicacy. You see, you can't  _ kill  _ any of them.”

Hazel and Cha Cha exchanged another glance.

“I don't get it,” Cha Cha said. “That's what we do.”

“If you can't handle it, we can get someone else on this case,” the Handler said. “Like Special Ops.”

“Special Ops are always thinkin’ they're better than us,” Hazel growled. “You set off two atomic bombs and suddenly you think you're the shit. We can handle it, Boss.”

“Good,” the Handler smiled. “Instead of killing them, we need you to bring them back here so we can extract their consciousnesses from their bodies and then kill them. Don't worry about it,” she said to their confused faces. “Just get them here, preferably unconscious, and we'll deal with the rest.”

“Alright,” Cha Cha said, a bit reluctantly. She seemed disappointed that there was no killing involved, but headed to the briefcase room nonetheless. Hazel turned to follow her, glancing in the Handler’s direction once. The Handler sighed. They were the best the Commission had, and if they couldn't finish the job, then no one could.

“Oh,” she turned to the two and they stopped, glancing back at her. “Don't worry about the one at the top of the list, Five. We have a lead that will help us apprehend him much easier.”

Hazel and Cha Cha nodded before continuing on. The Handler watched them sort out their briefcase and then they were gone in a pop, sucking the air in around them for a moment as it moved to fill their space. The Handler swiftly headed back down the hall, stopping in the room where the elite of the managing staff was. She approached Dot, who looked up from her typing.

“Do you have it?” the Handler asked.

Dot pulled open a drawer, withdrawing a small slip of paper much like the one the Handler had just given to the two agents. The Handler took it gently, carefully reading the words that spelled out  _ Confirmation on order for consciousness displacer. Will arrive in two hours. _

“Perfect,” the Handler grinned. “Now all we need to do is get our boy.”

“He's right where we first noticed him,” Dot replied cheerily. “Do you wish to make contact?”

“I do,” the Handler said. “But I think this best to be a one on one conversation.”

 

* * *

 

 

Briefcase in hand, the Handler stepped over fallen rubble, ignoring the ash that fell on her outfit. It was the Apocalypse, after all, not exactly an ideal tourist location. She scanned the lifeless horizon and then chuckled quietly as she saw what she was looking for.

“You know you aren't supposed to be here,” the Handler called, and the figure huddled on the side of the road turned in surprise. She found herself facing a thirteen-year-old boy, desperation and fear racing through his eyes as he stared at her.

“Who are you?” he asked, his voice rough. There were tear tracks down his face. “I thought everyone here was dead.”

“They are,” the Handler confirmed. “But I'm with an organization that, well, let's just say we can get you home.”

The boy's eyes lit up. “Really?”

“Of course,” the Handler shifted her grip on the briefcase. “No one wants to be stuck in this shithole, and we don't want you to be stuck here either.”

Mistrust ran across his features as he studied her. “How do I know you're telling the truth?”

“You don't have much choice, I'm afraid,” the Handler laughed. “This is a one-time offer. Help us help you, or remain stuck in a dead world for the remainder of your lonely life.”

Five bit his lip. He didn't seem dangerous, his schoolboy outfit making him seem young and almost adorable. But the Handler could see the wheels turning in his head and she knew he was clever,  much more than the idea of an innocent schoolboy that he seemed to portray.

“Alright,” the thirteen-year-old agreed.

The Handler held out her hand, and after a second’s hesitation, Five clasped it tightly. The Handler pushed a button on the briefcase and blue energy enveloped them.

The Apocalypse was gone in an instant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one's a bit shorter so I'll try to update sooner in order to get back to the main story but I hope y'all liked this one anyway! Starting to build some actual plot now :)


	6. The Victim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanya needs to learn to control her powers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oof I planned to get this up earlier but alas here we are. The next update won't be for awhile unfortunately because I'm going out of town, sorry about that. But here's chapter six!

Vanya stared at the violin, her hands shaking even as she wrapped them around herself. She hadn't been willing to touch it ever since they had all arrived in the past, not even to move it off of the chair it sat on top of. She knew it was probably silly, but she was terrified that that second she touched it she'd become the White Violin.

Her medicine was fading, she could feel it, because now her nerves had come back full force, twisting her stomach. Luther was still treating her like she was a bomb, and Diego walked on eggshells around her. She supposed it was warranted, but she couldn't help but feel like she went from being ignored to being treated like a ticking time bomb, ready to be set off by the slightest jostle. It wasn't fair. She had gotten powers and yet the rest of them still set her apart from them.

The light fixture began swinging gently above her head, and panic set in. She was doing it again. It was going to happen again, right here, only a day after they had arrived.

She was jolted out of her panic suddenly by a soft knock on the door and Allison peeked her head in.

“Hey,” she said softly. “You want company?”

Vanya nodded. Klaus and Ben were busy ransacking Ben's room for his favorite books, Five had promptly disappeared into his room and hadn't come out, and neither Diego or Luther wanted anything to do with her. Allison gave her a small smile and sat down on the bed next to her, their shoulders touching.

“That was a ballsy thing Five did,” Allison laughed, but there was an edge to her voice. They all knew that Five had done the equivalent of throwing himself in front of a train. “And Diego, too. Did you see the look on Dad's face when we all said we agreed with Five?”

Vanya laughed. “Yeah, that was great.”

“We really stuck it to him,” Allison said, a genuine smile lighting up her face. “If we had done this when we were younger, so many things could have turned out differently.”

Vanya glanced at her violin, safely in its case, and Allison followed Vanya's gaze. If things had been different, would the White Violin had ever appeared? Why hadn't they been willing to stand up for each other, instead of falling for Dad's cruel mind games?

“Have you played it yet?” Allison asked softly.

Vanya shook her head. “I don't think I want to. What I did, it's too much to bear risking it again.”

Admitting what she had done, that she was the catalyst of the Apocalypse, flooded her mind with memories. The house, everything exploding around her,  _ oh God Pogo _ \- she had almost killed Allison, and in the theater she had nearly killed the rest of her family, much less the entire world. Her breathing picked up and her fingernails bit into her palm as she squeezed her hands tightly.

“Hey, hey, Vanya, calm down,” Allison said. “Its okay, you're okay.” 

Her heart was beating fast, too fast, and she couldn't get air into her lungs. The uniform was tight, restricting her breathing, and she was desperate for air, breaths coming in short gasps. The room started shaking, a few items falling off of her dresser, and she stared at the wall, her focus far away.

“Vanya, you need to calm down,” Allison urged, her voice somehow steady despite the shaking of the room. “I'm here, listen to me. You're okay.”

Vanya barely heard as Diego and Luther burst through the door, Allison screaming for them to get out. Luther backed out of the room but Diego approached her slowly, hands in the air to show he didn't have any knives. She locked eyes with him, and his heartbeat got louder in her ears, steadier than hers but still beating quickly.

“Vanya,” he began carefully. “I need you to breathe with me, okay? In and out, nice and slow.”

He began breathing slow and exaggerated to show her, and she focused on his breath, the rasping sound steady and grounding. She attempted to follow his example but she didn't have enough air and her breaths were still short, Diego smiling encouragingly anyway. He nodded at her and didn't say anything, unwilling to break the pattern of breathing. Vanya began to calm down, not breaking eye contact as she matched his breaths.

The room had stopped shaking, she realized. Her bottom lip wobbled when it struck her what had just happened, what she had almost done. Allison had her arms around Vanya and Vanya turned into her, guilt and fear freezing her blood. She was dangerous. She was going to get them all killed.

“It's okay, Vanya,” Allison whispered. “You're allowed to feel emotions, you know.”

“But when I do…” her voice caught in her throat. “I end up doing  _ that _ .”

“Do you remember when Luther was little?” Diego asked. “He used to get so angry he'd punch holes in the wall. He broke a vase one time and blood was everywhere.”

“Or Five,” Allison added, “When he'd get so worked up he'd teleport three times at once, end up disoriented and lost, and then pass out wherever he was? Including the middle of the street that one time.”

“It's about control, Vanya,” Diego said firmly but quietly. “We all had to learn it. Some of us still are, I mean, look at Klaus.”

“Or this knucklehead in the courtyard after Dad's death,” Allison scoffed playfully, and Vanya giggled into Allison's shirt.

“Alright, fine,” Diego said. “I get it.”

“Thank you,” Allison murmured to Diego. “I didn't know what to do.”

“No,” Diego answered. “You wouldn't.”

In any other case, Vanya would have seen that as a jab, but here, it just seemed to be another example of Dad's favoritism. He had favored Luther and Allison, with little regard to what it had done psychologically to the rest of them. Maybe if he had been kinder, the world wouldn't have been destroyed.

“Was it my fault?” Vanya whispered.

“No,” Allison said. Vanya expected Diego to scoff, to say something, but he didn't, keeping his face neutral as Vanya glanced at him. “No, Vanya. It wasn't your fault.”

“A knife does the killing,” Diego said carefully, ignoring the look Allison shot him. “But it is the person throwing it that makes it into a weapon.”

Vanya understood. Diego wasn't absolving her of blame, but he wasn't blaming her either: she was dangerous, but it was Leonard that had made her so, or Dad, who hadn't taught her to control her powers. It made sense, and brought Vanya ease of mind. She could understand why she was so dangerous and yet Allison and the others kept trying to help her.

“Miss Vanya,” Pogo said suddenly from the door. “Master Reginald wishes to speak with you.”

A pit dropped in her stomach, cold racing up her arms and settling in her heart. Diego and Allison both looked at her, concerned, and it took her a moment to realise they weren't concerned about her bringing down the house with her fear, but rather that they were concerned for her. It warmed her to get core, enough that she found the courage to slide off of the bed.

“I can go with you,” Allison offered. Vanya shook her head.

“No,” she said. “I'll be okay.” Vanya gave her a small smile, glancing at Diego before following Pogo to Dad's office. Pogo opened the door, giving Vanya a glance as he did so.

“Miss Vanya,” Pogo started. “You are special, my dear. You are loved.”

Vanya bit her lip. “Thank you, Pogo,” she said softly. Emotion warred in her heart but she pushed it down. He wasn't dead now, and she wouldn't let him die - or kill him. Things would be different. 

She stepped into the office and Pogo closed the door behind her, leaving her alone with her Dad. She automatically straightened her back, clasping her hands behind her.

“Number Seven,” Dad said, not looking up from what he was writing. “You will join the others for training. You will stop taking your medicine.”

Vanya glowed with excitement. “Thank you,” she said.

“I presume Number Five already discussed this with you,” Dad continued. “But you must get your powers under control.”

“I will do my best.” Vanya waited a moment, but the conversation was clearly over, so she quietly exited the room. It was strange, almost out of character, for Dad to agree so easily to train her, but she chalked it up to the fact that everything he had always done was about saving the world. If training her would save the world, then she supposed Dad would agree to do it.

She shook the thought out of her mind. What was important was she was going to train with the others and learn control. Unable to contain her squeal of excitement, she skipped across the hall, stopping short as she noticed the others other than Five standing at the end of the hall, watching her expectantly.

She grabbed the nearest two in a hug, who happened to be Ben and Allison, laughing in relief. When they saw her happiness they relaxed, Allison hugging her back and Ben wrapping his arms around both of them. Klaus ruffled her hair, and Diego stood off to the side smirking while Luther crossed his arms and managed to look somewhat pleased.

“He said I can join training,” Vanya said as they pulled apart, giddiness overtaking her. “I don't have to take my meds anymore.”

“I knew the old crone couldn't say no to all of us,” Klaus said affectionately. “Well, best get dressed, we've got like ten minutes.”

Vanya nodded and raced down the hall to her room. Five teleported into the middle of the hall as Vanya ran down it and they nearly collided, Five managing to just jump out if the way. He looked her over, raising his eyebrows at her bright, uncontainable smile.

“The old man agree to train you?” he asked, and Vanya nodded. A small, satisfied smile crept across his face. “Good.”

“You got your power back,” Vanya noted. “Were you busy writing equations all over your walls and it just suddenly came back?”

Five gave her a look. “I was taking a nap.”

“Oh.” Vanya was pleasantly surprised. “Good.”

“You better get dressed,” Five said, parroting what Klaus had said earlier. “I'll meet you over there, okay?”

Vanya grinned. Today was the first day that everything was going to change.

 

* * *

 

Vanya stood at the bottom of the stairs, gazing up the circle stairway at Mom and Dad. Normally it would be her up there, but since she was a part of the team… she took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She wanted to do well, but she hadn't been training like the rest of them had. They would leave her in the dust.

“Hey,” Klaus said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You'll do fine. If I did this while drunk as a skunk, you can do it sober.”

“The question is can  _ you  _ do it sober?” Ben asked Klaus. “You haven't done this in years, especially not sober. You might fall over from having too much balance.”

“That's funny coming from you,” Klaus retorted. “You might forget to breathe because you haven't had to for fifteen years.”

“Oh, low blow,” Ben said, but he was smiling. “You'd attack a poor dead boy?”

“You can't pull the dead card if you aren't dead, Ben,” Klaus answered, making Ben laugh.

Vanya smiled. Their brotherly banter eased Vanya's nerves, and she could see the way Ben had changed over the years. He could tease Klaus comfortably, instead of the shy comebacks he used to have, and their brotherly air was obvious with how they were both joking about things that, had anyone else said it, would have sent them into the mission of breaking a nose. It was refreshing.

“Hey,” Luther said, catching their attention, and Vanya followed his gaze to where Mom had raised the whistle to her lips. The shrill sound of the whistle filled the air, and training began.

It was hard, harder than most anything Vanya had done in her life, and she got the feeling that Dad was pushing them harder due to what happened at breakfast. Her suspicions were confirmed when, as the rest of them were taking a water break, Dad ordered Diego and Five to do extra laps, and gave Five more to do on top of that when he let Diego stop. Five finished when his legs collapsed under him, and in his desperation to reach the end of the lap, he used his power and jumped, falling at Dad’s feet. He was panting and sweat dripped from his face, but he had finished the lap, which Vanya knew meant Dad would be satisfied. Their Dad looked down at Five, disdain evident on his face as he turned away, leaving Five to pick himself up.

Five punched the floor, glaring up at Dad. Luther moved to help him up, but he shoved Luther away, making his way over to where the water bottles were leaning against the wall. None of them moved for a moment, exchanging glances as Five took a swig of water.

“Hey,” Vanya said hesitantly. Five side-eyed her but kept the water bottle pressed against his mouth. “I’m sorry he did that to you.”

Five lowered the water bottle, wiping his mouth on his sleeve. “It’s fine,” Five replied through gritted teeth. “I can run all day. That’s not a problem.”

“Oh,” Vanya said. “I see.”

After morning training was lunch, which went by silently, and then, even more training. Today they were working on their powers, on controlling and harnessing them. As Dad explained this, Vanya could feel everyone’s eyes on her. She wasn’t surprised as Dad turned to her, looking her over with a critical eye.

“Number Seven, you are exempt from training for a few hours. Once I return, then we shall do private training in order to ensure you are capable of keeping your powers in check.”

Vanya stared at her feet, her heart sinking a bit. It wasn’t like he was dismissing her completely, but she still felt the sting of rejection. Even after everything, she wasn’t good enough. She glanced up to see Allison give her a small smile, and Vanya tried to smile back, but she felt it fade from her lips before it was anything real.

“Where are you going?” Luther asked.

“I will be taking Number Four for extra training,” Dad said, and Vanya watched Klaus’ face fall.

“Sounds like fun,” Klaus said, a fake cheery tone in his voice. “Quality father-son bonding time, what could go wrong?”

“Klaus,” Ben said, looking worried.

“Oh, don’t get your panties in a bunch, brother,” Klaus answered. “Most of the time these trips are just dreadful fun in some cemetery somewhere. You aren’t missing out on a rave or anything.”

The last look Vanya had of Klaus was him peering out the window of the car, a resigned yet fearful look on his face as they drove away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hargreeves did agree pretty easily, didn't he, Vanya? Hm...


	7. The Martyr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Klaus gets some special one-on-one training with Hargreeves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've really been procrastinating this chapter because honestly I was so nervous about posting it, but I'm just going to bite the bullet and just post it.
> 
> Check the end notes for warnings.

Klaus was used to the “special training” trips that he and Hargreeves took, as the resident disappointment of the family, he tended to get them a lot. For the most part, they were just him attempting to summon ghosts in the middle of a cemetery, but he could count on one hand the number of times the trips had gone even more South than they normally did, and the thought of seeing the inside of the mausoleum again made him want to drink every bottle Hargreeves had in his liquor cabinet.

All too soon, they were at the cemetery, and Klaus bit his lip. Even at thirty years old, the dead he saw were enough to shake him to his core, but he supposed he hadn’t gotten the kindest introduction to the dead. If Ben had been the first ghost he had ever seen, then Klaus probably would be hanging out with new ghost friends every day. But that wasn’t how it worked, and so Klaus was stuck wandering in a cemetery for hours with his dear old despicable Dad.

Hoo-fucking-ray.

He opened the door of the car and stepped out, the chill wind rushing his face. Klaus scanned the cemetery, the empty rows of tombstones making him even more uneasy. It was midday, and apparently people didn't like to picnic with dead relatives for their lunch break, which meant the cemetery was empty. At least, of not-dead people. Klaus sighed, and Hargreeves got out of the car, his cold gaze studying Klaus like he was a new species of stick the old man had found up his ass.

“Fun, fun, fun,” Klaus muttered.

“Number Four,” Hargreeves commanded, and Klaus reluctantly looked at him. “Your training commences now.”

“Yeah,” Klaus said. “Great.”

He followed Hargreeves through the cemetery, glancing at graves but not actually reading them. As he walked, the voices that had been held at bay began to creep up in his mind and he shuddered, the urge to block them out however he had to planting itself firmly in his chest. He wasn't worried. Alright, maybe a bit, because he knew after the voices came…

He nearly walked through a man with a hole in his chest as he suddenly appeared, staring forlornly at Klaus. Hargreeves didn't even turn around as Klaus abruptly stopped. He didn't meet the man's eyes, edging around him to hurriedly catch up to Hargreeves. Out of the corner of his eye he could see more appearing, and he moved past an old lady with half her face drooping down, trying to ignore the dead that watched him. It was easier to call on those who had died tragically, their lives often left incomplete and their souls left agitated, and they were naturally drawn to Klaus without him actively seeking them out. There were so many of them, their eyes as dead as their bodies as they looked at him, and Klaus felt his chest tighten. The cemetery had gone from empty to crowded with dead in the span of a moment, and Klaus had never seen so many of them gathered all at once.

He hadn't done the cemetery practice in many years, and he'd only done it a few times sober as a kid, but even then there had only ever been one or two ghosts that had appeared at a time. Now, it seemed as if every grave had responded to his presence, even the ones that had died peacefully and of old age. Hargreeves hadn't noticed the way Klaus was looking around in bewilderment, continuing to march towards whatever grave he wanted Klaus to conjure from. Klaus didn't know if it was the sobriety or his newly discovered abilities concerning the dead, but he had woken the entire graveyard.

“Why did you wake us?” a spirit asked, a young man not even thirty with a bullet hole in the center of his head.

Klaus shook his head, opening his mouth to say something but no explanation came to mind and he shut it again. The spirits around him began echoing the question, soft voices whispering the phrase over and over. His heart pumping, he pressed forward, past the ghosts that whispered in his ear. They couldn't hurt him, he told himself. They were just ghosts.

“Here, Number Four,” Hargreeves stopped, staring at a grave that read  _ Cynthia Reeds. _ “Conjure this spirit.”

Hargreeves’ voice left no room for argument, and Klaus looked from Hargreeves to the grave, sighing reluctantly. There were ghosts all around him, watching them silently as he stood in front of the gravestone, but Hargreeves had managed to choose one of the few ghosts that hadn’t automatically appeared to him. Reaching out, he concentrated on the grave, trying to reach beyond the veil of death to connect with the spirit. But there was no answer, not even a  _ fuck you  _ from the ghost on the other side, adamantly refusing to cooperate.  It was almost like there was no spirit there.

Confused, he retracted his hand, reading the gravestone again. It only had a name, no dates or anything else, which wasn’t inherently suspicious other than the fact that there was no ghost for Klaus to call upon. Even when he was high as a kite, if he actually tried, he could sense a ghost in a graveyard - which was another reason he stayed far, far away from any place that had anything to do with dead people.

“Number Four?” Hargreeves asked, impatience obvious on his face.

“Are you sure this one’s dead?” Klaus asked doubtfully. “Maybe she faked her death, moved to the Bahamas, and is living sweet with some pool boy she met.”

“Do not blame your failures on anything but yourself, Number Four,” Hargreeves barked, and Klaus sighed heavily. “You are a disappointment. Using drugs to escape your inability to control your powers is despicable.”

“I’m actually not high right now,  _ Dad, _ ” Klaus hissed, not turning to face him. “Aren’t you oh so proud of me?”

Hargreeves’ silence was answer enough. Klaus didn’t have to turn around to feel the cruel gaze on his back, so he just stared at the grave in front of him, trying to ignore the sting of his father's disapproval. Despite everything, he was still just his little eight-year-old self, desperate to prove himself and make Dad proud.

“Try again, Number Four,” Hargreeves said. “Failure is not an option. You must succeed and find your potential.”

Klaus rolled his eyes, but held out his hand anyway, screwing his eyes shut. He dug deep, letting the sounds of the cemetery fade away, concentrating on the grave and six feet below it. There was no answer, no sign that there was anything on the other end of what Klaus was reaching for, not even a whisper. But Hargreeves never took no as an answer, and so Klaus opened his senses to outside the grave, searching for any spirit that might be there.

After a moment, he felt something brush against his senses, so he mentally followed it, his figurative fingers reaching out to touch it. The second he made contact, Klaus jerked back as fire shot through his body, making him flinch in pain. He opened his eyes to see a man, skin charred and burnt off, glaring at him with wild eyes. Stumbling backwards, he ran into Hargreeves, who grabbed him by the shoulders and held him in place. The burnt man approached and Klaus instinctively shrunk back as the man reached out with a skeletal hand.

_ He can't hurt me, _ Klaus chanted in his mind.  _ He can't hurt me, he can't hurt me… _

The man would've touched Klaus’ face but his hand went right through, and Klaus breathed a heavier sigh of relief than he should have. Hargreeves’ hands were tight on Klaus’ shoulders, even as the burnt man lowered his hand, his eyes still blazing with intensity. Klaus took a deep breath, watching the man carefully, but he didn't move, meeting Klaus’ gaze.

“Number Four,” Hargreeves stated, and Klaus’ heart stopped. “You are still plagued by your silly fear of the dead. And you failed to contact the spirit.”

“No, I just, he startled me is all,” Klaus exclaimed. “I tried, I really did, but she isn't there.”

“Your fear of the dead prevents you from making contact and you create blatant lies to cover it up,” Hargreeves snapped. His hands fell from Klaus’ shoulders and Klaus turned around, now more concerned with his father than any of the ghosts. “You cannot let your fear best you, Number Four. You must set an example.”

Hargreeves’ hand closed over Klaus’ wrist, and only now did Klaus realize how close they were to the mausoleum. He stepped away from Hargreeves but Hargreeves held tight, looking at Klaus with a cold indifference. Terror shot through him and he tried to yank his wrist away, but he was no match for his father.

“Wait, please,” Klaus begged as his father began to pull him along. “I can conjure any other spirit, there are so many here already, I can do it,  _ please.” _

His father wasn't listening.

“Please, I-” his voice cracked. “I didn't do anything wrong.”

Hargreeves glanced down at him with disregard, not giving Klaus a response, and suddenly Klaus understood. His father never shied away from listing Klaus’ faults, and the times he'd been locked in the mausoleum had been preceded by a rant of Klaus’ ineptitude all the way to the mausoleum. Hargreeves’ silence spoke volumes, and both of them knew it wasn't about Klaus.

“You sick bastard,” Klaus snarled, anger rising in his lungs as Hargreeves continued to force Klaus to walk. “This is about breakfast, isn't it? You put me in front of an empty grave so that I would fail.”

Hargreeves made a left, nearly pulling Klaus off his feet, and Klaus stumbled before regaining his balance.

“You knew you couldn't deal with us together,” Klaus continued. “We outnumbered and overpowered you. So you decided to make me pay for everything.”

“A chain is only as strong as its weakest link, Number Four,” Hargreeves answered. “I do not tolerate disobedience, or your insolence.”

Klaus growled, ready to snap back at the old man when the mausoleum came into view, and Klaus’ anger melted away, replaced by absolute, blinding panic. He stopped in his tracks and his arm was nearly dislocated as Hargreeves harshly yanked Klaus forward, and this time he did fall, scraping his knees against the rough pavement. He put his weight in front of him and fought against Hargreeves, using everything in his thirteen-year-old body to try and get away. Hargreeves walked forward like Klaus was nothing.

“Please don't do this,” Klaus begged. “I can't go back there, not again, you can't put me in there.”

His father didn't care. He didn't care about Klaus or any of his siblings, only about getting his way, and Klaus was just the latest victim of his need for power. The tears welled up in his eyes and he let them go, and before long he was sobbing as the mausoleum grew ever closer, only a few steps away. Hargreeves stopped to unlock it, and Klaus screamed, suddenly choking on tears as Hargreeves backhanded him. His cheek stung and he fell silent for a moment before his need for air caught up with him, his breath coming in fast gasps.

He searched the ground desperately, looking for anything to give him a way out, his eyes landing on a woman's dress. Glancing up, there was a woman in a Victorian-style dress, looking stricken as her gaze wavered between Hargreeves and Klaus. She met his eyes and reached out towards his cheek, hesitating only a few inches from him.

“Please help me,” Klaus whispered. “Don't let him - Oh God -”

He was cut off as Hargreeves dragged him forward, pulling the mausoleum doors open. Klaus shook his head forcefully but there was nothing he could do; he met the woman's eyes again, silently pleading for her to do something. After a moment's deliberation, she stood up straight, drew her fist back, and swung with the force of a truck, hitting Hargreeves right in the jaw - the same way Ben had hit him, once upon a time. Hargreeves’ head snapped to the side and he put a hand to his jaw instinctively. He looked up, fury thundering in his eyes and the woman backed up, but his gaze passed right through her. Hargreeves glanced slowly down at Klaus.

Klaus shivered underneath his stare, turning his head away. He locked his gaze onto Hargreeves’ shoes, cowering as Hargreeves’ grip went tight enough to bruise. Klaus had never seen any of his siblings hurt their Dad. Even Allison, who was the only one who used her power on him, did so to get trivial things like a certain book from the library or five extra minutes before curfew. He had fucked up, asking the Victorian woman to help him, but he would rather die right then and there than go back into the mausoleum. After seventeen years, the place still haunted him to his core.

Hargreeves pulled Klaus up, onto his feet, and shoved him into the mausoleum. Klaus tripped over the steps down, faceplanting hard on the ground, and the doors swung shut, throwing Klaus into total darkness. He sat up, panting heavily, trying and failing not to panic. His heart was too loud, the stone too cold, and he couldn't breathe in the small space of the mausoleum.

“Dad!” he wailed. “Dad, please!”

There was, of course, no answer. Klaus scooted into a corner. The voices started, and he grabbed his head, letting out a bloodcurdling scream, trying to drown them out. It didn't work, and he froze as the first ghost appeared, moving towards him with outstretched hands. Klaus pressed himself into the stonework, but still they approached. He remembered the cruelty of these ghosts. They always called his name and tried to grab him, to force him under the ground with them or get revenge for their deaths on the only thing that they could get a reaction out of.

“ _ Klaus, _ ” they hissed. “ _ Klaus.”  _ They wielded his name like a weapon.

“They can't hurt me,” Klaus muttered frantically, like it was a mantra that would protect him. “They can't hurt me, they can't hurt me, they can't-”

The nearest ghost swiped at him and he instinctively put an arm up to block it. He cried out as pain shot through his arm, and he lowered it to see four gash marks torn through the sleeve of his uniform. He could feel a warm stickiness running down his arm, and his stomach filled with ice.

They could hurt him. They could hurt him, and they were willing to do exactly that. The ghosts clawed at his feet, one of them tearing through his right shoe and slicing into the sensitive skin. Klaus shrieked, kicking out at the spirit, but his foot went through it like it was nothing.

“Dad!” he screamed, scrambling up the steps of the mausoleum to beat on the doors. “Let me out,  _ they'll kill me! _ ”

There was no answer. There was no one coming to save him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for child abuse (heavy this chapter), claustrophobia, ghosts/dead people, not explicitly stated but heavy elements of panic attacks.


	8. When A Good Man Goes To War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben is smart. He looks for Klaus.

Ben immediately knew something was wrong when their father came home with no Klaus in tow.

Ben was upstairs, near where Mom recharged, waiting for Klaus to return while pretending to practice with his powers. He hadn’t used them in years, hadn’t been in contact with them for years, and now he was back in his thirteen-year-old body with extradimensional beings wriggling under his skin. He had been scared of them before, reluctant to use his power and hating himself after he did, but after everything and fifteen years to reflect on it, he found that he was even more scared of them now.

He didn’t remember most of the tricks he used to control them, and it was a miracle he was holding it together, so of course he was hesitant to do anything with his power. That and, every time his skin moved in a way it wasn’t supposed to, he was reminded of that day. He hadn’t lost control, not completely. He suspected Klaus knew that his death had only been slightly an accident.

He had told Luther, and their father, that he couldn’t control the monsters. That he needed to sit out the next mission. But they had insisted he go along, and when there was only one person left, the beings weren’t satisfied. They had threatened to spill out into their universe, eating and killing everything in their path. So Ben had stopped them, stopped them from escaping by holding them in his stomach, and their bloodlust had turned on him because it had nowhere else to go.

He had blamed Luther and their father for a long time after his death.

Their father strode through the door, breaking Ben out of his thoughts, and Ben leaned over the railing, waiting for Klaus to appear. Father went to find Vanya, Klaus didn’t come through the door, and a heavy sense of dread settled in Ben’s stomach. They had only been gone an hour, and Ben didn't think that was long enough to do anything productive, especially since it was Klaus. Ben wasn't sure he trusted any of his siblings not to snap at their father, and spending an hour alone with him would make any of them angry enough to confront him. It didn't help that Ben knew the cemetery was one of Klaus’ most feared places.

He stood up straight and wandered down the hall, finding where Mom had set up a table with a line of wine glasses on them. Hargreeves was holding a tuning fork, his attention completely on Vanya. Ben was upstairs from where Vanya was training and Five was sitting at the railing, scribbling in his book as he only paid some attention to Vanya's training. Ben sat down next to Five, troubling thoughts tumbling through his mind. The few times their father had returned without Klaus after taking him training had meant Klaus didn't return until after dinner, and one time, not until the next morning. He wouldn't talk to any of them about it, closing himself off and the second time it had happened he had turned to drugs to block out the horrors.

Klaus hadn't told Ben about the mausoleum until years after he had left the Academy, and when he had, he spoke with bitter words and the clouded eyes of being both drunk and high. It still gave him nightmares, and in his worst moments like the hotel room with Hazel and Cha Cha, it haunted his every move. Ben narrowed his eyes at their father. The tuning fork was now singing, Hargreeves commanding Vanya to focus. She took a deep breath and glared at a wine glass in the middle, and after a moment, it and the one next to it shattered. She flinched, but Hargreeves didn't react, the closest thing to approval the man could muster.

“Again!”

“Training’s going well,” Five muttered to Ben. “I think. Oh, look, the rest of the Academy wanted to watch as well.”

Ben looked down to see Diego leaning on the doorway to the room Vanya and their father were in, watching them carefully. Luther and Allison were on the same level as Ben and Five, whispering to each other as Vanya shattered another glass. Even Pogo and Mom were there, holding more wine glasses to replace the broken ones.

“We're missing someone,” Five said. “Where's Klaus?”

“He didn't come in with Dad,” Ben answered. Five’s eyebrows creased.

“He knew he couldn't stand up to us together,” Five said, his voice low. “Break one of us and he'll break us all.”

Five had been the one with the biggest outburst against their father, and they were all aware of Five's attachment to his family. Ben guessed that Hargreeves would've preferred to punish Ben or Vanya to send the biggest message to Five, but they were also the most volatile, and Diego had spoken up as well - Diego had a soft spot for Klaus specifically, being the only one who attempted to find Klaus after the Academy as well as listening to him. Klaus was also the one who, so far, had grown least into his powers, and was least likely to be able to fight back. Ben's rage grew, curdling in his stomach, and he could feel the creatures wriggle excitedly underneath his skin.

“Where's Klaus?” Ben asked aloud, breaking Vanya's concentration as she glanced up at him.

“Silence, Number Six,” Hargreeves demanded, a dangerous edge to his voice.

“You locked him in the mausoleum, didn't you?” Ben said, his voice rising. Everyone's eyes were on him now.

“Number Six, you are interrupting the training of Number Seven,” Hargreeves snapped. “Silence!”

“No!” Ben yelled, and the tension in the room rose. Five was staring at Ben with wide eyes, and the others were frozen to the spot as they blinked at him in surprise. “You can't do that to him! You can't just control us through fear.”

“ _ Number Six _ ,” Hargreeves hissed, a threat thinly veiled in his words. “You will stand down. Now.”

Hargreeves’ anger used to be enough to send him into a panic, and when it was directed at him, he'd spend the entire day frantically trying to regain his father's approval. But now Ben understood the pointlessness of trying to impress him and he stood up, glaring down at his father. Hargreeves might be angry, but he had nothing on the righteous fury coursing through Ben's veins.

“You're despicable,” Ben spat. “Five, come with me.”

Five didn't argue, not even with a condescending smirk or a roll of the eyes, promptly standing up and following Ben out of the room. If their father had moved to follow, Diego stood imposingly in the doorway to stop him. Ben marched towards the front door and Five jumped away, hopefully to the car.

“Number Six!” Hargreeves called. “Number Five! You haven't been excused!”

Ben didn't dignify Hargreeves with a response, shaking off the feeling of deja vu from the day Five had disappeared. Their father had said the exact same thing that day, giving Ben a sense of foreboding, but he pushed open the front door and turned into the alley next to the house. Five wasn't there and Ben's heart sank a bit, but he moved towards the car, pulling at the driver's side door despite not knowing how to drive. It didn't open.

“You might need these,” Five said as he jumped to stand beside Ben, jangling the keys. Ben sighed in relief, giving Five a smile. Five unlocked the car, sliding into the driver's seat, and Ben moved to get into the passenger seat.

“Where are we going?” Five asked casually. Ben glanced out the window worriedly as they pulled out onto the street. Ben told him the directions to the cemetery, and Five took a left, uncharacteristically quiet for a moment.

“Pretty impressive what you did back there,” Five said. “It was terrifying.”

Ben glanced at his hands. “I wasn't going to let them out.”

Five scoffed. “You don't get it. You're the nicest person I know: seeing you get angry is an experience.”

Ben blinked. “Oh. Thank you.”

“So he…” Five's grip on the steering wheel tightened. “He locked Klaus in a mausoleum?”

“Yeah,” Ben said, his throat dry. “He did that sometimes.”

“Klaus never told us,” Five said, his eyes firmly on the road.

“He only told me after he got super drunk.” Ben hugged himself. “But being dead, I sometimes got glimpses inside his head, like flashes of memories or thoughts. And what I saw of the mausoleum…” Ben shuddered. “No one should ever have to go through that.”

Five silently pressed the gas pedal down further. Ben stared out the window, watching the trees and buildings go past. When he was dead, there was little he could do except watch his brother tear himself apart. Now, he had a second chance to save Klaus from himself and the dead that haunted him. Ben knew the kindness Klaus had in him, the potential he had to do so much good in the world, and he wouldn't let that be crushed by Hargreeves. Not this time.

“Here,” Ben said as the cemetery came into view. “Stop here.”

Five did, pulling into a spot off of the road. Ben stepped out of the car, scanning the empty cemetery. He knew the way to the mausoleum, but for some reason his heart beat fast, his shoulders tensing as he stared across all of the graves.

That used to be him. He remembered standing at Klaus’ shoulder, watching his own funeral silently. Back then he'd refused to say anything, the shock of death forcing his silence. He'd hated Klaus for a while, blaming him and every one of his siblings for his death, and then he'd hated Klaus for being a mess and the one sibling Ben was stuck with. Klaus hadn't deserved it, but it had been so hard to let go of his anger and let go of his trauma.

Ben wondered if Klaus was better off without him being eternally stuck by his side.

“You alright?” Five prompted. He had his hands in his pockets, looking at Ben with a calculating gaze.

“Yeah,” Ben said, clearing his throat. Right now they needed to focus on Klaus.

Ben led Five down the paved path, an eerie sense creeping over him that someone was watching their every move. Once, during a bad trip, Klaus had visited the cemetery, walking right up to the mausoleum and screaming at it like he could scare the bad memories away. Ben had seen the dead that strolled the paths, like they still had somewhere to be. He guessed all the years he had spent dead had given him a bit of ghost-sense, or maybe Klaus was just rubbing off on him, but the place felt crowded. The crisp air turned stuffy the further they walked into the graveyard, and Ben could've sworn he bumped into an invisible shoulder. If he listened carefully in the silence, he could swear he'd catch the occasional whisper from nonexistent conversations.

“I don't like this,” Five spoke up. “Something feels wrong. Like…”

“Someone's watching you?” Ben raised an eyebrow, and Five looked at him. So, not just Ben, then.

Unlike Klaus, he didn't have a fear of the dead, and if he did before it had been dispelled by dying. But the energy that emanated from the graveyard made his hair stand up, and so he quickened his pace to the mausoleum, Five not arguing.

“It's weird how easily Dad agreed to train Vanya, don't you think?” Five asked. “He's spent virtually her whole life drugging her to avoid her powers and I throw one tantrum and he agrees to train her.”

“Maybe he's concerned about the end of the world,” Ben shrugged. “Maybe the old man actually does care about something beyond himself.”

Ben turned to see Five looking at him. “What?”

“You've changed,” Five smirked. “Of course that's to be expected, with seventeen years since we were kids, but I suppose you were the last person I expected to see so different.”

“Because I died?”

Five chuckled. “Sure. Because you were stuck with Klaus for years, but God knows that'd do things to me. Because you were so devoted to impressing Dad and Luther.”

Ben didn't know what to say. He didn't expect Five to be so observant, especially not after seventeen years, but Five had never been obtuse. Ben had changed, his outburst in the Academy proving that, but he'd been dead so long, unable to make his own decisions about where to go or what to do that he didn't know who he was anymore.

“Speaking of the Apocalypse,” Five said, bringing it back to their previous discussion and his favorite topic of conversation. “How'd Dad know to kill himself eight days before the end of the world?”

“I'd say he got lucky, but…” Ben trailed off. Their father was a mystery to them, his full intentions unknown and his plans undiscovered. They were just pawns to him, but was it just the end of the world that Dad was playing chess for?

They reached the mausoleum, and Ben immediately went straight for the doors, tugging on them, but they were locked and didn't budge. He grit his teeth and stepped back, glancing to Five.

“Klaus is in there?” Five asked, worry coating his words as he looked at the imposing building of granite. “I'm going to kill that bastard, I can't believe Dad would put him in there…”

“I need you to warp inside and get him,” Ben said. “You can do that, right?”

“Well, if I can push myself and six others to a precise point in time and space, bringing one of them back from the dead in the process, why not?” Five sighed. “Don't worry. He'll be okay.”

Ben blinked in surprise. An assurance from Five wasn't what he had thought would happen, but it made him smile. Five took a step forward, ready to jump into the mausoleum and grab Klaus when a hair-splitting scream, muffled by the stone walls encasing the mausoleum, broke the silence of the cemetery. Ben instinctively covered his ears and he turned to Five, wide-eyed, who met his gaze looking just as concerned.

Five disappeared with his usual  _ pop _ and Ben waited anxiously, wrapping his arms around himself as the temperature seemed to drop drastically. He stood there for a moment, and then another, and then another, his heart beating faster with every second that passed. Five should've been back by now.

“Klaus!” he called. “Five!”

Another scream, but this one wasn't Klaus, and Ben's blood turned cold as he realized it was Five, inside the mausoleum.

Something had gone very, very wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> This show, man, I just rewatched it for the third time and I still can't get it out of my head. This fic was almost inevitable because I just had to write about it and so here we are. I'm planning on this being a long fic, right now I have eight chapters written and I'm not even to the midpoint of the plot yet. Well, here goes nothing!


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